


The Decaying Dream Factory

by Thelitnerd



Category: Star Wars
Genre: F/M, Kylo Ren and Rey - Freeform, Kylo Ren and Rey Are Not Related, POV Kylo Ren, Reylo - Freeform, Star Wars - Freeform, Sunset boulevard Vibes, reylo au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23275303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thelitnerd/pseuds/Thelitnerd
Summary: A Reylo fanfic heavily inspired by the movie and broadway musical, “Sunset Boulevard”OrBen Solo is a disillusioned screenplay writer who works for his uncle, the legendary Luke Skywalker. Feeling like Luke isn’t giving him the respect he feels like he deserves, Ben is planning on leaving his Uncle’s studio to work for the Notorious Mr. Snoke, a man who is known for buying cheap, over saturated films, and raking his script writers through the mud. That is, until Ben meet a young woman called Rey Shaffer, an aspiring screenplay writer who works for his uncle.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey and Ben Solo - Relationship, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	The Decaying Dream Factory

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I hope you enjoy this! This is the first Fanfiction I’ve ever written, so I hope you all like it! Before you start reading, there are few things you should know. The first, is that this story is written in first person, in Ben’s Perspective. Th next, is that, for those of you that know the source materials, you will realize I borrowed heavily from sunset boulevard for this chapter, however you will see I’m future chapters I will diverge quite a bit in order to fit the narrative I would like to write a little better. The last, be prepared for long pauses in between chapters, or even a complete stop as I am a busy student, and of course, my academics come first, untop of having a very short attention span. I apologize for the length of these notes and I promise any future ones will be much shorter. I hope you enjoy this little project of mine!

I looked down at the blue and white patterned carpet surrounding feet, knowing the humility that awaited me. My own uncle, would reject the story I spent weeks upon weeks perfecting, and instead just offer me a handout while I, “Took time for my creativity to reset.” Just the idea of it gave fire to my checks and emphasized the dread resulting from the slow ticking of the clock. Finally, after what seemed to be hours of agony, one of the many people who worked for my uncle, a young woman, came out, and announced my appointment. I quickly grabbed the massive portfolio resting next to me and brought it up to my face, slightly covering it, as I hurried behind her, into the tiny office a few feet away from me.

...

“Ben, I’m sorry,” uncle Luke said, almost reciting word for word the words I dreaded, “but none of these ideas are workable. I’m sure, however, if you spent a little time a way from work, your creativity would come back to you. I’d be more then happy to oblige you with funds necessary to do so.” That was it. I couldn’t take it anymore. I curled my fingers into the palm of my hand and bashed my creation as hard as I could onto the wooden desk in front of me. To my satisfaction, the loud thud scared my uncle and caused him to jump back a little in surprise. “So you won’t let me work and earn money, but you are more then happy to shell it out me?” I yelled with the vigor of a thousand flames. I could see the disappointed look on his face before he buried it in his hand and said, “Fine Ben, you want work, I’ll give it to you. Rework one of your old scripts, the one about baseball, what was it-” “Home Run,” I grumbled, quickly, under my breath. “Yes,” continued Uncle Luke, “Home Run, as a fluff piece, until you can give me something truly inspiring like you used to write.” at this my anger somewhat subsided, enough so that I was able sink back down in my seat. Uncle Luke, however, ran over to the door, and yelled out for someone named Ms. Crammer, before yelling, “Can you please bring me everything we have on Home Run, thank you!”

Just then, a small brunette walked into the room, carrying a somewhat thin portfolio. “Ah yes, thank you dear,” Luke looked over at her and smiled, before he grabbed the material she held in her arms. “Here you are, Mr. Skywalker, I typed a two page synopses for you, but I would bother to read it,” she said dryly as she slightly rolled her eyes. At this, Luke redirected his focus onto me and started, “This is Mr. Solo, he wrote it. Ben, this, is Ms. Crammer.” “Shaffer, actually,” she said as she extended her hand to me with a somewhat bored look on her face, “Rey Shaffer.” I took her hand haphazardly, before retorting with, “I’d expect you to have turned down Titanic.” she rolled her eyes, as Luke chuckled once again, “No kid, that was me. Anyway, it was good to see you, but unfortunately, I have another meeting to to attend to.” I rolled my eyes, as I took my cue and strolled out of the office.

I was lost in thought over the frustration that was my uncle, so much so that I started speaking aloud, “-You know what, maybe i should just sell out to Snoke! At least, I’d actually make some mon-” I was cut off by a slight tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see the same, sharp-tongued girl who worked for my uncle. “You shouldn’t sell out,” she said with enough bluntness to temporarily knock me off me feet. “What?” I gridded in confusion, still relied up from the last hour’s events. “You have talent you know.” She suddenly gave me a sincere look, which finally allowed me to really see her eyes. They were a brilliant hazel; rare, and unrelenting, but surprisingly warm, just like the woman they were attached to. In fact, if it wasn’t for the rage that was slowly dying down within me, I most likely would have gotten lost in them. I looked away after what felt like an hour, although in reality, probably less then a second. I scoffed softly, “Yeah, how would know?” She stepped closer to me and extended to me file that was considerably thicker then the one that incased “Home Run.” “While reorganizing the filing cabinet a little while back, I found some of your old work, this one was my favorite.” I grabbed the file with hostile curiosity, and open the packed carelessly. when I saw the content inside, a let out a giggle. It was script I had written a few years back, when I had just started writing. It was an old passion project of mine, and ironically enough, a love story. It was about a young man shrouded in darkness who was had a streak of light hidden deep within him, and a flawed angle who was miraculously sent to help him find his way. I stopped for a moment, examining the stack of paper in my hands with the most delicate of care. “This,” she breathed out, “this, is the type of story that Luke is looking for. You should write it.” I scoffed again, this time with a little more enthusiasm. “Yeah, right. Let me tell you something. Stories like that, with actual substance and passion poured into them, don’t sell.” And with that, I turned around and started to make my way to the door, before I could even see the look on her face. That was, until I heard heard her soft voice peep through the air again. “I over heard you talking to yourself, you know.” That was enough to make my body stiffen and turn around. “Yeah, so,” I demanded to hear the next statement that came from her mouth. “I’m sure Mr. Skywalker wouldn’t quite be so thrilled to hear that you are thinking of violating your contract and writing films for his largest competitor,” she said as smirked like the Cheshire Cat. That little viper. “What do you want,” I grumbled. She gave a serious look, as if to prove she wasn’t messing around, before saying, “Meet me at Shmit’s on Thursday, about the script, and I’ll keep my little mouth shut about your possible dealings with other companies,” she said as she crossed her arms. I mimicked her actions in much tenser manner. “Fine,” I grumbled, and turned to walk out the door. Before I left the premises however, I made the decision to turn around one last time, and add, “No promises though, It’s been long time since I’ve felt anything towards anything I’ve written .” I swear I could almost hear a slight, feminine giggle, as finally made my exit.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! If you made this far, I greatly appreciate it! Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
